Secret Admirer - D.J. Jamison Page 0,35

breath. “I’m your secret admirer.”

“So Jeremy put you up to it,” I said bitterly.

“No.”

“Then you felt sorry for me or something.”

Ace hesitated. “No.”

“You’re lying to me.” I stood, ready to walk out.

“I’m not.” Ace grasped my hand, fingers curling around mine. “I did it because I like you. I wanted to cheer you up, to make you happy, but I want those things because I care about you.”

Then, before I could fully process all that, he stood up, lifting a hand to my face. Leaning in, he said it again: “I like you, Benji.”

We were close enough to kiss, Ace’s breath brushing my lips like a lover’s, and it was all too much. I still couldn’t believe him even as my heart leapfrogged around in my chest. His eyes were intense, too much. Everything about him was suddenly overwhelming. His presence, his feelings—

No. He’d checked up on me for Jeremy, that was all. He’d felt sorry for me, so he’d bought me little anonymous gifts and suggested I had an admirer. He’d lied to me every time we talked about it. And now … this was just one more lie.

I stumbled back, shaking my head. My voice came out thready. “I should go.”

“I’m sorry. I’m not…” He cleared his throat. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I’m not hurt,” I lied. “I’m pissed.” That part was true. “You let me talk to you about this bullshit admirer, and all along you knew the truth. You must think I’m the biggest idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot.”

“Just pathetic, right?” I said bitterly. “Just Jeremy’s gay little brother who needs protecting.”

“You did need protecting last night!”

“Only because you lied to me!”

I would have never flirted with Jonas, never asked him out if I’d known my secret admirer was really just Ace. Secret admirer? Ha! More like Secret Pitier.

I felt worse than I had the night Kaleb stood me up, and that was saying something.

“I’m sorry,” Ace said. “Benji, can we just calm down and—”

“No. I’m not doing this,” I said, turning for the door. “I need to get the fuck out of here.”

He didn’t stop me when I stalked out, slamming the door behind me. Of course Ace would be fucking respectful of my wishes, that asshole. He was always so fucking nice, which was why this had blindsided me.

I’d trusted him. I trusted him to help me, to listen to me, to care about my feelings. And the whole time, he’d been keeping a massive secret from me.

Even if it was true that he liked me, why not just say so? It wasn’t like Ace needed to worry about being rejected. He was the handsome, sexy one. I was the geeky introvert with no muscle tone and too many freckles.

No, it didn’t make any sense. This was just one more example of Ace’s hero complex, thinking he could save me from sadness or some bullshit.

Reaching my dorm, I slunk inside and crawled into bed. Thanks to my hangover, I was easily able to sleep for several more hours. I turned off my phone and crashed.

It wasn’t until I woke I realized there was something on my wrist.

I looked down, my chest going hot and tight as I gazed at the interwoven blue, purple, and lime green threads.

It was a friendship bracelet.

Just like the one I’d made him as a kid.

11

Benji

My phone buzzed with a text, and I eyed it like it was a rattlesnake. I was in bed, even though it was nearly noon. I’d slept off my hangover the day before, then wallowed in bed the rest of the day, watching anime and reading webcomics: Yuri on Ice, My Hero Academia, and because I was feeling masochistic, the heart-breaking Given and the romantic comic Heartstopper.

Ordinarily anime, manga, and webcomics with their themes of boy-love was a comfort to me. They made me feel less alone as a gay boy, and when I’d been so isolated at my conservative high school, they’d been a lifesaver. Watching them now wasn’t an act of comfort, though, so much as masochism.

My heart felt bruised, and indulging in these stories was a way of poking and prodding it, immersing myself in the pain of a fantasy romance that felt impossibly far away.

Ace had texted a couple of times while I was sleeping the day before. I hadn’t read them because I wasn’t ready. But this time it wasn’t Ace; it was Tracy.

Answer me before I call campus police to report my missing friend!

Wincing, I realized she’d texted me